


Making Choices

by Rini



Category: Bandom
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-23
Updated: 2013-01-23
Packaged: 2017-11-26 13:48:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,249
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/651148
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rini/pseuds/Rini
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Frank has to figure out his life before it gets away from him and Grant provides the inspiration.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Making Choices

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kuriositet](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kuriositet/gifts).



Frank looked out over the crowds of people in front of him, soaking up the chaos of one of the most popular and famous music festivals in the world. The thought of attending the Reading and Leeds festival was one he’d given up a few years back so the fact that he was actually working behind the scenes still blew his mind. He stumbled forward nearly a foot when his buddy James knocked into him when entering the merch booth Frank was currently manning.

“Hey Frankie,” James said. “Let’s get this shit packed up so we can party. Last night is always a wild ride.”

Laughing, Frank shoved James off him. “You’ve said that every night.”

James tipped his head back on a loud laugh. “Haven’t been wrong yet, have I?”

“Well no,” Frank admitted. “It’s a bit of an awesome mad house.”

James nodded. “Yeah, for most of us, it’s the end of the summer run and we’re all headed home. You know what that’s like.”

Frank nodded and grimaced at the idea of heading home. Not that he didn’t miss it; Jersey was in his blood. He just didn’t miss what going back was going to mean. Frank wasn’t really prepared for the life that was waiting for him. He dug into work silently next to James, packing up the leftover tee shirts, cds, key chains and the assorted detritus of band merchandise after the summer-long festival season. There was a lot more than he expected, but he had no idea what they’d started with or what deliveries they received along the way, so he let the thought slide and taped up the final open box in front of him. Frank looked over to see James smiling and nodding at the state of the booth.

“Looks good, man,” James said. “Let’s get these boxes looked up and go have some fun.” They made short work of loading up the cart and getting everything stowed in the band’s van.

“You leave day after tomorrow, right?” Frank asked, leaning against the back door with his hands shoved in his pockets.

James nodded. “Yeah, we all fly out from Heathrow, so we’ll be heading back to London once everyone’s conscious again tomorrow morning. “When do you head back?”

Frank bit his lower lip, tongue playing over his tongue ring. “Supposed to fly out tomorrow…should have been back already, but I changed my flight after you emailed me about this gig.” He smiled sheepishly. “Anything to avoid real life as long as I can.”

“I hear you, man,” James said. “You can catch a ride back with us ten since our hotel is near the airport.”

“Thanks,” Frank said. “I’ll take you up on it so long as you guys are headed out when I need to hit the road.

James grabbed Frank around the neck and dragged him off toward the raucous sounds of the closest campsite. He grinned and high-fived a couple of people before shoving Frank toward a cooler. “Grab a drink and enjoy your last night in England, dude.”

Frank laughed, punched James’ shoulder and grabbed two beers before saluting his friend and melting into the shadows. He cracked the first can open, still marveling that he could get quality beer in a can, took a large gulp and kept on walking…looking for something he couldn’t name.

After finishing his third beer and visiting his fifth campsite, Frank leaned against the side of a van to people watch. Usually he had no problems diving into the fray, but he was feeling more melancholy than usual and his psychology training gave him perspective and a desire to observe others at random and often weird times.

“What’re you doing here in the shadows?” A quiet voice asked, a Scottish burr cloaking the words enough that Frank had to take a moment to fully hear and understand the question. He turned to look at the person who lounged near him, gaze skipping up higher than expected. Frank took stock of the gorgeous man, noting the bald head, twinkling eyes, seductive smile and finally the way his tee shirt stretched tight across his chest and shoulders.

“Dunno,” Frank replied, shrugging and shifting to be able to see the guy more clearly. “Not really a part of the crowd tonight.” He smirked and swept his eyes over the guy’s body again. It was designed to evoke a response, a practiced look of Frank’s and either way, he’d know what possibilities might lay ahead depending on the response he received.

A low chuckle startled Frank, but deepened his smirk. “You’re a forthright guy, aren’t you mate?” The guy swept his thumb over his lower lip and eyed Frank right back.

“Life’s too short to fuck around if you see something you want,” Frank countered, relaxing back against the van again and sipping at his beer. “So what band are you here with?”

“I’m not,” the guy said with a shrug. “Have enough friends in the scene most people don’t realize I don’t officially belong backstage.” He smiled at Frank, mischief glinting in his eyes in the firelight.

Frank laughed and shook his head. “I got a gig selling merch with my buddy, Dewees. He’s been on the road all summer but managed to convince the band he’d need my help at this festival.”

“It’s not far off. I saw the way most of the merch booths ran all weekend,” the guy said. “What were you up to that you could pop in to help? Unless I’m mistaken, you’re American and I can’t imagine you flew over solely for this gig.”

“Nah, I was backpacking Europe,” Frank said, finishing off his beer and rolling the empty bottle between his hands. “Shoulda been home already, but I couldn’t leave before this whole thing once Dewees offered me the chance.” He sighed softly, eyes going wistful. “It’s my last hurrah before real life and settling down calls.”

The guy arched his eyebrow and frowned slightly. “This can’t be your real life?” he asked quietly while waving around them.

Shaking his head, Frank shrugged easily and met the intense gaze. “I gave it a shot right out of high school; worked shit jobs and poured my all into a band that started to go somewhere and then imploded. It left me with nothing, so I went back to school like my folks wanted.” Another shrug and Frank tipped his head back against the van to avoid the assessing gaze trained on him. “I’ve got a job lined up and a licensing program waiting for me to get home.”

The stranger hummed and Frank forced himself to look over. He’s not sure what he expected to find in the guy’s gaze but it wasn’t the speculation that left Frank feeling uncomfortable in his skin. “Sounds like a respectable life,” he said before reaching over and tracing his fingers over the ink on Frank’s forearm. “You look like a respectable life is the last thing you want.”

Frank opened and closed his mouth a few times before huffing out a harsh breath. “The very last thing,” he whispered, flexing the muscles in his arm. “I had to stop with the tattoos when I went back to school for psychology.”

“Such a shame,” the guy said. “They’re gorgeous…you’re stunning. My name’s Grant, by the way.”

Sucking in a breath at the blatant appreciation in Grant’s voice, Frank smiled and turned more fully toward him. “I’m Frank,” he said while staring at Grant’s mouth and licking his own lips.

Grant groaned and shifted, looking around them at the party still raging on before he slid closer and curled his hand around Frank’s hip.

Frank leaned into the touch and looked back into Grant’s eyes. “So what are you doing hanging out here if you’re not actually working the festival?” The seemingly innocuous question broke the mounting sexual tension and Frank watched the way Grant’s entire body tense. He immediately wanted to take back the inquiry, but kept his mouth shut while Frank gathered his thoughts. The psychologically curious part of Frank’s brain was completely attentive to the shift.

“Escapism,” Grant finally said, “is probably the best way to explain it.”

“What are you escaping from?” Frank asked, gently resting both of his hands on Frant’s hips to offer him some semblance of support.

Grant chuckle wryly. “My former life,” he said “Or the life I supposedly used to live. However you want to look at it.”

Frank cocked his head to the side and arched an eyebrow at Grant. “You supposedly used to live?” he repeated softly.

“I’m living with…or coping with amnesia,” Grant said. “Have been for nearly two years now. The expectations are rough. Mum doesn’t understand why I can remember some things and not others. It’s especially rough on her because she and Da are two people I don’t remember at all.”

Frank made a soft, encouraging noise. He rubbed his thumbs in a soothing and rhythmic motion over Grant’s hips. “What led you here?”

“Music’s one of the few things I got back in this whole ordeal. It came back slowly in bits and pieces at first and when my mum’s disappointment proved too much to bear, I turned to the music,” Grant said. “The more time I spent around it, the more came back and I know enough people in the industry that I can usually get my way in pretty much anywhere I go.”

Laughing, Frank shifted closer. “I don’t doubt that for a second. Where do you go from here?”

Grant shifted even closer to Frank, curling one arm around his body and resting his hand in Frank’s lower back to neatly trap him to Grant’s body. “Probably back to Scotland. I’m due for a family visit and a mate of mine want to talk to me about a gig near home.”

“When do you leave?” Frank asked, leaning into Grant’s touch.

Increasing the pressure with a grin, Grant leaned in to whisper in Frank’s ear. “Not until tomorrow.”

Frank turned his head and brushed his cheek against Grant’s. “I was so hoping you’d say that.” Moving quickly, Frank tugged Grant in by his hips and kissed him deeply. “Spend the rest of the night with me?” he asked, the words skating over Grant’s lips.

“Yes,” Grant moaned, hauling Frank up onto his toes and into another, deeper kiss.

~~~

 

The sun nearly blinded Frank when he cracked his eyes open the next morning. He groaned and swatted at James who had woken him by repeatedly poking in the side with his foot.

“Frankie,” James said with a huge grin and a wiggle of his eyebrows in Grant’s direction where he was wrapped around Frank. “Hate to crash your party, but we’re hitting the road and I know you need to get out of here too.”

Grumbling, Frank rubbed at his eyes and did his best to focus on James. “Already?” he asked, hand curling tighter around Grant’s forearm where it was pressed to his chest.

James nodded. “Yeah, sorry dude, but the truck’s all loaded and it’s time to roll.”

Frank looked over at Grant, smiling when he saw Grant was awake and looking back at him. A surge of want, of rightness swept through him and Frank laughed. He pressed a brief kiss to Grant’s lips. “No,” he said, turning to James.

“No?” James echoed while Grant’s smile expanded across his face.

“I think I’m not going home. I’m going to Scotland,” Frank said, turning to Grant and arching an eyebrow. “If you want me, that is.”

Grant let out a huge laugh. “Oh, aye I do.” He hugged Frank tighter.

“You sure man?” James asked, dubious.

Frank kissed Grant hard and then stood up to pull James into a tight hug. “Yeah, I’m sure. I’ll make the calls I need to stop it all. I don’t want that life and I don’t want to wake up in fifteen years and wonder what the fuck I was thinking.” He leaned back before stealing a second hug. “Thanks for everything,” Frank added, sweeping his hand around them.

James laughed and messed up Frank’s hair. “Any time. Keep in touch and let me know if you make it back to Jersey.”

“Will do,” Frank said, pulling Grant to his feet. “Music,” he murmured, thinking back to what Grant had said the night before. He turned back to Dewees. “Hey, you got that art kid’s number? Gary…Gerald? Something like that.”

“You mean Gerard?” James asked, confused. “Yeah, but why?”

“Yeah, yeah, that’s the one,” Frank said, tugging his cell phone out of his pocket. “I remember he was always trying to start up a band. I’m gonna give him a call and see if he needs a guitarist.”

Blinking in further confusion, James pulled up the number on his on cell and transferred it over to Frank’s phone. “I don’t know that he’s doing music any more, but give him a call and tell him I said hi. Now, I gotta get out of here.” He waved and headed off with one last punch to Frank’s shoulder.

Frank watched his friend for a moment and then turned to Grant. He launched himself at Grant and did his best to climb up and wrap his legs around Grant’s hips. “Let’s go conquer Scotland.”

Grant shifted his grip to keep Frank up high and kissed him hard. “Let’s go shake up our lives.”


End file.
